A Different Path
by Wicked Sapphira
Summary: Are some people born evil, or do extreme circumstances in their lives make them that way? Maybe Tom could have been saved, could have taken another path, if he only would have had listened to her.... Inspired by Green Day's "Whatsername". Tom/OC


**Disclaimer**: I am the all-powerful J.K. Rowling, and I own all of these characters. I am just kidding. Nothing that you recognize is mine!

**Author's Note**: Hello! Welcome to A Different Path. This story was inspired by Green Day's song, _Whatsername_. Also, this story consists of four parts, so I hope that you will stick around to read all of them. And, no, my OC is NOT a Mary Sue although she might seem like it at first. (I hate Mary Sues!) Now that I have said that, I present Part I.

**Part I: A Bad Start**

_October 6, 1980_

Lord Voldemort was pacing his study getting more frustrated by the minute. 'Where is he? Surely he could not have forgotten or gotten lost,' he thought. The Dark Lord knew that if his Death Eater did not show up soon there was going to be hell to pay. Suddenly, there came a wrapping at the door. He ordered, "Enter." The door creaked open, and in stepped one of his newer Death Eaters, Severus Snape. "You are late, Severus," he hissed menacingly, his crimson eyes glaring a hole through Snape.

"I apologize, my Lord. I had difficulty interrogating Missy Albright, and then Lucius Malfoy refused to listen to my orders to not kill her when we were finished," Snape said, kneeling at the Dark Lord's feet.

"Excuses, excuses. How worthless they are. There is no excuse for you being as late as you are, and you know very well that I do not tolerate tardiness among my ranks. When I summon you, I fully expect you to be at my side almost immediately," said Voldemort, narrowing his eyes.

"Yes, my Lord," Snape replied, his head bowed.

"As for Lucius, I shall speak with him, and I shall make sure that he does not hinder you again. However, I did not summon you to discuss Lucius Malfoy. Did you extract the necessary information from Missy Albright?"

Snape hesitated for a fraction of a second, and then said, "No, my Lord, I did not. She knew nothing of import about the Potters or Longbottoms that we didn't already know and absolutely nothing of the prophecy."

Lord Voldemort fingered his wand inside his robe feeling furious that there was yet another dead end in the investigation, and he was sorely tempted to take that fury out on Snape. Suddenly, the temptation became too hard to resist. The Dark Lord drew his wand and Snape watched it with concern and dread etched into his sallow face, for he knew very well what was to come. "Severus, you have disappointed me too many times tonight. Firstly, you were over an hour late, and secondly, you did not properly complete the task that was required of you. For this, you shall be punished," Voldemort stated quietly and dangerously. "_Crucio_!"

Snape writhed on the ground in agony, biting his lip to keep from screaming aloud so hard that it bled. When Voldemort felt that Snape had had enough, he ended the curse, and Snape laid panting and twitching on the carpet. Voldemort looked down at him with disgust and snarled, "The next time you disappoint me, the repercussions shall be far worse, believe you me. Now, get up and get out of my sight."

Snape got up off the floor shakily, wiping the excess blood off his lip, and bowed as much as he could to Voldemort as much as he could without falling over. He then straightened and left the room without another word to his Master, limping slightly as he walked.

Irritated, Voldemort sat down in his favorite armchair and stared at the fire roaring in the fireplace in his study in an attempt to calm down. However, the attempt did not work very well at all, so he resigned himself to pacing his study again. After about twenty minutes of pacing, the Dark Lord needed some fresh air and a peaceful place to think.

He Disapparated out of the Death Eater Headquarters and appeared on a hill near Hogwarts grounds. He muttered a Disillusionment Charm and set off down the hill in the direction of where the Black Lake was located. It was a chilly October night and he savored the cool breeze that hit his face and made his robes billow around him as he walked. When he had reached the lake, he found a huge flat rock and sat down on it.

In his school years, he would sometimes come down to that very spot, usually at night, to think or when he wanted to be alone. Even after he had left Hogwarts, he still visited the lake to contemplate from time to time. Voldemort knew that it was sentimental and slightly out-of-character for him, but it was the one place he could go where he would not be bothered, whether it happened to be Death Eaters, or meddlesome old men pestering him.

However, Voldemort had come to the lake not only to think without interruption, but because it was October 6. The day that he had first noticed _her_, the love of his life. Despite the fact that he could not remember her name (which he thought was strange), he could remember that day as if it were yesterday….

* * *

_October 6, 1943_

Tom Marvolo Riddle looked into the mirror as he straightened his silver and green Slytherin tie and pinned his brand-new shiny Head Boy badge on his robe. He then stole one more glance at his reflection to make sure that he was presentable and left the Slytherin Seventh Year Boy's Dormitory, making his way to the Great Hall for breakfast. On his way, he kept his eyes peeled for any misbehaving students, but as he turned a corner sharply, he immediately smacked into a very solid stack of books held up by a pair of arms.

He made a noise that sounded like "Oomph" and the owner of the arms gave a startled yelp. Tom was forced backward and pain shot through his nose where it had made contact with the stack of books. Said stack of books started to sway precariously and promptly crashed to the floor, as did the person who was carrying them.

When Tom had regained his senses, he realized that the person who was currently sprawled on the ground was a seventh year Ravenclaw girl who he had noticed around school but did not know her name. She had curly, medium-length, ash-brown hair, pale skin with freckles, a thin frame, and a heart-shaped face. She was beautiful (even he had to admit that), but her most striking feature was her eyes: they were almond-shaped and the exact hue of sapphires with a fringe of long black lashes surrounding them. She looked petite when she was on the ground, but when she stood up, brushing her uniform skirt as she did so, he saw that she was of average height though Tom still towered over her, as he was almost abnormally tall.

"I apologize. I should have been more careful," Tom said, seemingly contrite, but really seething on the inside as he rubbed his throbbing nose.

"Yes, you should have been. And don't say you are sorry without meaning it," she snapped.

"What makes you think that I'm not sorry?" Tom asked, pretending to be hurt.

"If you had meant it, you would have helped me up or at least asked if I was okay," she responded, her blue eyes boring into his nearly black ones.

'Touché,' Tom thought, and he couldn't disagree with her logic. He was surprised that she had seen right through his façade, for no one, except for Dumbledore, saw right through him. He was also surprised that she had had the audacity to give him cheek, as he was Head Boy and was both feared and revered by the student body and staff.

"Okay, then. Are you all right?" Tom asked, trying to placate her.

"I'm fine, thank you for asking," she replied sarcastically.

"Do you have any idea who you are dealing with here?" Tom snarled, abandoning the 'nice guy' act.

"Yeah. Tom Riddle, Head Boy extraordinaire, savior of the school, prince of Slytherin. Need I go on?" she retorted flippantly.

"Funny how you know who I am, and yet you don't know that I am not someone to be trifled with," he hissed.

"Oh, you would be surprised at how well I know that, actually. I'm not scared of you, though," she said.

Tom's eyes gleamed red for a fraction of a second, and then he said, "You should fear me, if you know what's good for you."

"Well, I guess that I don't know what's good for me, then," argued the girl ('Apparently,' Tom thought), and without sparing Tom another glance, she quickly gathered her books and walked off. Tom watched her retreating back with a death-glare, and laughed cruelly when she tripped over something and was sent sprawling on the hard, unforgiving floor. The girl seemed to have heard him, because she looked back, glaring at him and giving him a rather obscene gesture involving her hand.

"Fifteen points from Ravenclaw," Tom said, making sure that she could hear him, and then stalked off towards the Great Hall thinking, 'With guts like hers, it's a miracle that she isn't in Gryffindor, but she is rather clumsy and infuriating.' When he got there, he made his way to the Slytherin table and sat with his followers. They could obviously tell that he was in a foul mood because they steered clear of talking to him. Eventually, the girl walked into the Great Hall and headed to the Ravenclaw table.

Not caring if they were talking about something earth shattering or life changing (which he highly doubted), he interrupted them. Pointing to the girl, Tom said to Abraxas Malfoy, "Who is that girl?"

"Oh, that is just some Ravenclaw girl. She always sits in the back of the class, but she always gets excellent grades, almost as good as yours, Tom. She is also a Mudblood, so I don't know how she gets such good grades," Malfoy prattled.

"I didn't need you to give me her whole biography, you idiot. I want to know her name, or is that too difficult of a task to handle?" Tom hissed.

Malfoy's pale face went pink with embarrassment, and then he said, "Her name is—"

Unfortunately, for Tom, Malfoy was interrupted by the bell signaling that it was time to go to class before he could utter her name.

"Tell me later, Malfoy," Tom said over his shoulder as he headed to Arithmancy. When he got there, the infuriating girl was there at the back of the classroom, of course. Funny how he had had classes with her for seven years and had never really noticed her before, but he was starting to wish that he hadn't noticed her now that he had. Tom could feel her eyes burning a hole in the back of his head as he walked to his seat at the very front of the room, but he kept his head held high and ignored it.

It continued like that the whole lesson. Because Tom was not easily perturbed by anything (or at least he did not show it) and had much determination, he was able to concentrate fully on the lesson and not on the peculiar prickly feeling on the back of his neck that told him that someone was staring at him. Eventually, the bell rang, signaling that it was the end of that class and that it was time to go to the next. Tom packed up his things quickly and left for Potions even more swiftly. He needed to devise a plan to figure out how she seemed to know so much about him, and quickly too. The odd thing was that he could not seem to think properly when she was around, so he needed to be alone to do that.

Tom's thoughts came to a screeching halt, however, when he opened the door to the Potions classroom, because he found that she was in there, as well. He just ignored her again, and although it wasn't hard for him to do that, Tom felt an irrational impulse to say something to her, but he never acted on it. As expected, Slughorn made a grand entrance when he entered the classroom.

"Good morning, class," he said, flashing what Tom thought was an obnoxious grin. When all he received in response were a few grumbles from the class, the grin never went away, but he clucked his tongue and waved a finger at the class disapprovingly, and said, "That is no way for a class to behave. I said, good morning class."

"Good morning, Professor Slughorn," chorused the class, although Tom never joined in.

"That's much better! Now on with the lesson…. Today you will be making, or attempting to make, Amortentia," Slughorn announced. There were some groans and some gasps from the class at this.

"Now, you will definitely need a partner for this, so I suggest that those of you who do not have a partner, pair up with someone," he called over the noise. Tom mentally groaned at this. He despised working with a partner since they usually messed the potion up if they tried to help, and because he was brilliant enough to do the work on his own no matter how difficult it was, he did not usually have to work with a partner.

Tom looked around the room in search of a partner, and he saw that the girl that the bane of his existence (that was what he referred to her in his head) usually worked with was absent. All of a sudden, it seemed like having a partner wasn't going to be so bad after all. It was the perfect opportunity to carry out his plan. He walked over to her table and plopped down in the empty chair beside her.

"What are you doing?" she asked, glaring at him.

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm your partner," Tom said, deliberately trying to sound nice.

"I don't want you to be my partner, Riddle."

"Well, that doesn't matter because you're stuck with me," Tom replied, feeling slightly smug as he had clearly won their little verbal sparring match.

Before she could retort, Slughorn said, "Quiet down, please. Now, is there anyone who could tell me what Amortentia is?"

Tom's hand immediately shot up, and Slughorn, of course, picked on him. "Sir, Amortentia is the most powerful love potion in the world. Also, it smells differently to everyone, as it appeals to the scents that attract that individual," answered Tom in his best know-it-all voice.

"Excellent, Tom, m'boy! Fifteen points to Slytherin," Slughorn said, delighted. "Amortentia, in addition to being the most powerful love potion ever created, is also one of the most dangerous potions in the world. Can anyone tell me why that is?"

Only one other hand besides Tom's went up, and it was _hers_. But this time Slughorn did not call on him, but on her instead, much to his surprise. "Oho! It looks like Tom has some competition! Go ahead, young lady," Slughorn prompted.

"Amortentia creates a kind of obsessive love. Well, it doesn't actually create love; it just creates a powerful obsession. Anyway, obsessive love is one of the most powerful and dangerous things in the universe Therefore, one should never underestimate the power of it," she stated.

Slughorn looked a bit surprised that she had stated the correct answer, but he got over it in a flash and said, "Ten points to Ravenclaw for a job well done." She beamed, her blue eyes shining, and Tom glared at her furiously, as he wasn't used to having to compete with anyone academically.

"Now that we have covered the basics of the potion that we are making today, it is time to actually make it. Please open your books to page 238. Once you have done that, you may begin."

The whole class shuffled to the front of the room to get the correct ingredients, and there was much pushing and shoving. Tom rolled his eyes at this display of immaturity and hastened to retrieve the necessary ingredients. He then sat down with his partner, and started to get to work. They had been working together for some time when Tom noticed that she was about to do something that would ruin the potion. "Stop! What do you think you're doing?" Tom said sternly.

She looked puzzled and said defensively, "I'm adding the salamander tail. That _is_ what it says to do in the book."

"Well, the book is incorrect. Adding the salamander tail now will make the potion too pink and it won't work properly on a person. I'm sure that the author of this textbook knew that," advised Tom.

"Why would the author of this book intentionally write incorrect instructions? It seems a bit ridiculous and far-fetched to me," she argued, her curls bouncing as she spoke.

"My theory is that the author did that to weed out the people who were truly good at potions from the sheep that just follow the directions. The art of potion making requires much thought and one must be intelligent enough to recognize certain subtle differences that could make or break a potion," Tom explained, and although he did not say 'intelligent' any differently than the other words, they both knew where the emphasis lay.

"Fine. But if you ruin this potion, I'll never let you live it down," she conceded, dropping the salamander tail back on the table. Tom was surprised that she had even agreed, seeing as she was as stubborn as a mule and he had just insulted her.

"Hand me your silver knife," Tom ordered, and she obliged. He crushed the ginger root with the flat side of the blade and tilted it into the cauldron. Then he stirred the concoction clockwise with a counterclockwise stir every third clockwise stir and the potion turned from orange to a light pink hue. Then he added the salamander tail and stirred seven times counterclockwise, and the potion suddenly had its characteristic mother-of-pearl sheen and there was steam rising up in spirals from the cauldron.

"How did you do that?" she said with amazement in her voice.

"As I said before, you have to think about what you are doing and not merely try to follow instructions," Tom replied coolly. He was trying not to concentrate on the overwhelming scents coming from the cauldron. They reminded Tom of the mahogany wardrobe at the orphanage that had once held all of his worldly possessions, and the way the air smells right before it starts to rain. But there was another smell that Tom could not easily identify. It was kind of a flowery feminine scent, but it didn't smell like any flower Tom had ever smelled before in his life.

"Okay, time's up, everyone!" called Slughorn. Everyone stopped working immediately, and Slughorn went around to the tables examining the potions. He shook his head in disappointment as he looked in each cauldron. However, when he got to Tom's cauldron, a huge grin lit up his face, and he exclaimed, "Oho! Mr. Riddle has done it again, everyone! You truly have a gift for potion making, m'boy."

"Thank you, sir," Tom said, trying to look embarrassed.

"Oh, and so modest, too. Twenty-five points to each of your houses," Slughorn said, indicating to Tom and the mysterious girl.

Then, the bell rang again, and Tom left quickly. He didn't care that he had left the girl to clean up their mess all by herself; he just needed to get away from the intoxicating scent of Amortentia.

* * *

**Author's Note**: Please review to tell me what you think so far! Yes, I know that the whole Amortentia thing was a bit cliché, but oh well…. Also, I told you that my OC isn't a Mary Sue. Let's see… she's clumsy, stubborn (although that can also be a good quality), and not as good as Tom in Potions. The second part will be coming soon to a computer near you!


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